


all this time (will you be mine)

by LizMikaelson



Category: Legacies (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, and josie figures out what she wants in time, the one where the note contains nothing but love confessions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-07 21:33:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18881683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LizMikaelson/pseuds/LizMikaelson
Summary: This is your dilemma:You are never, ever, ever, getting your heart broken again. Because you can not stand that kind of pain. And you can not forgive Penelope for causing this.You are still totally gone for her, too.





	all this time (will you be mine)

**Author's Note:**

> I started this right after the slug episode aired, so it's not quite in character anymore. I apologise!

The slugs are gone. No one is quite sure, since no new monster has turned up, but you’re certainly not infected anymore. The memories are still there.

 

This is what you know:

 

You called your sister terrible. (She asked.)

 

You kissed Penelope. (She did it first.)

 

You sang. (It was everything.)

 

You would have destroyed Hope. (That’s the real problem.)

 

Lizzie alternates between being a bitch and being absolutely lovely for the next week. You’re worried for the first three days, on edge and vibrating with fear, because she’d been doing better and you don’t want to be the reason her life is harder.

 

(In your head, you hear your mother. Josie, bipolar disorder is an illness and not a responsibility. Not yours.)

 

This is what you would have asked your mother, the night of the talent show, if she had been there: If it’s not my responsibility, why do you and Dad always leave me to clean up her messes?

 

You corner Lizzie after the week is over, while she’s pretending to be asleep, just slip into her bed and shove until she gives up and moves over.

 

Normally, she would have already shoved you back out if she wanted her peace.

 

Everything is different, now.

 

“It was horrible of you to ask me that,” you tell her.

 

“So I guess it can go on the list,” she says. “Another reason why I’m terrible.”

 

Some dark, hidden part of you does not want to say what you cam here for, because for once, you’re not shouldering everyone else’s problem and maybe you’d like to keep it that way, just for a little bit longer.

 

But you owe your sister the truth. “I’m not exactly up for sister of the year either.”

 

Even in the dim light filtering in outside, you can see honest surprise on Lizzie’s face. “You’re the best sister, Jo, you know that.”

 

“You couldn’t keep taking if I didn’t keep giving, Liz. This, us, enabling each other to be like this, it’s not just on you. And blaming you for my choices is the easy way out.”

 

Far away, in an almost distant memory, you hear Penny’s voice in your first fight. I’m not mad that you have an exhausting sister, Jo. I’m mad because you keep making the choice to put her above you.

 

The fact that you’re starting to understand her does not make anything better.

 

You lie in silence for minutes, Lizzie quietly breathing next to you. “I’m not good with change,” she finally says.

 

“Things have to change,” you reply, and your voice sounds firmer than you thought it could. This is the one thing you have decided on, in the last week.

 

She doesn’t say anything else, but nods, and you wonder if things would be different, if it hadn’t taken mind-control for you to be honest with her. Outside, students pass by and there’s a bustle of noise before the quiet returns.

 

“I was so angry at Hope,” you tell her, because Lizzie is your best friend and your confidante and the person you talk to.

 

She makes a quiet, humming noise, a signal for you to go on. “I saw Penny- Penelope- on the ground and I was ready to destroy her.”

 

This is what only you and Lizzie truly know. (And Bonnie suspects.) Fire is everywhere. It’s there, it’s magic, close to magic and it’s easy to conjure and impossible to master.

 

There are things you can do with the magic you possess, pull it in and collect it and while Hope is powerful and strong and seems virtually indestructible sometimes, with the rage burning inside you at the image of Penelope, unconscious, you would have put up a decent fight.

 

You couldn't stand to see her hurt. 

 

“You should ask Hope to teach you offensive magic,” Lizzie says and you nearly fall out of the bed, stare at her in pure shock.

 

She rolls her eyes, all Lizzie for a moment.

 

“You’re friends, right? Don’t think I haven’t noticed, Jo. You set Penelope on fire, you did black magic with Hope, you were to fight her. You’re not going to stop. And I’d rather you’d know what you’re doing.”

 

She sighs. “And my choices shouldn’t keep defining you.”

 

You can’t believe she’s saying this, rest your head on your hands and look down at her. “I’m trying,” she mutters and you can see just how hard this is for her.

 

How hard this is for both of you, you think, because you miss her already. You know that offensive magic is a thing you can not do together and you miss your sister. Some days for the last week, you doubted if it was worth it, if losing the relationship you have with Lizzie now is too high a price to pay for finally, finally being your own person.

 

You still don’t know.

 

Maybe, tonight, you don’t have to.

 

Instead, you wrap your arm around Lizzie and she curls up against you. You can have tonight of holding a sister who should be strong enough to stand on her own.

 

You’re almost asleep when she speaks again. “What are you going to do about Penelope?”

 

“I have no idea.”

 

“She may be Satan,” Lizzie mutters, “but she is still totally gone for you.”

 

This is your dilemma:

 

You are never, ever, ever, getting your heart broken again. Because you can not stand that kind of pain. And you can not forgive Penelope for causing this.

 

You are still totally gone for her, too.

 

You spend the next week avoiding her. And then, you notice that it is surprisingly easy, running away from someone who is already gone. You catch glimpses of her, from time to time, but her superpower of appearing wherever you are seems to have twisted into the exact oppposite.

 

In the end, you need to know. You think about talking to her, but the notion seems a little too much, so you settle on questioning Hope. You have the sneaking suspicion that she and Penelope are as close to friends as either of them get, so it's worth a shot. 

 

"Is Penelope avoiding me?" you blurt out, in the middle of her monologue about blasting spells.

 

She looks up at you. "Well, it's nice to know you listen to me."

 

"Is she?"

 

Hope rolls her eyes. "I may be new to this friendship thing, but I'm pretty sure that even if she were avoiding you, I wouldn't be allowed to tell you. Did you ever read that note?” 

 

"No," you mutter. "Do you know what's in it?"

 

"Yes, she told me while we were braiding each other's hair and doing our nails," Hope mutters, the sarcasm obvious in her voice. "No, I do not. Where is it?"

 

You pull it out of your pocket. It may be a little crinkled. 

 

Hope stares. "You haven't read it?"

 

"No."

 

"But you've been carrying it around with you for weeks?"

 

"Yes."

 

"Ridiculous," she mutters again, "read it now."

 

You're too scared of what it will say, scared of having your heart broken by her over and over and over again. You hand the note to Hope. "Read it to me," you request.

 

She rolls her eyes, again, but adheres, “Look,” she begins and puts the note down, aghast. “What is this? A love letter or an argumentative brief? Look? Who starts this kind of thing with look?”

Penelope, you think.

 

“Keep reading,” you say. “Please.”

 

“Look, Jo, I was wrong. But I’m too selfish to just let you go. And I thought I couldn't watch you always putting yourself second, to Lizzie, to me, to everyone else, but it hurts even more not to be by your side. I was wrong and I miss you. I love you. Penny.”

 

You cry, because she’s said everything you’ve wanted to hear for so long.

 

You cry because the last weeks have been horrible and finally, finally it all comes crashing in.

 

You cry because she loves and you miss her.

 

Hope’s hand is on your shoulder and she sounds concerned. "Josie? What's going on?" 

 

You don’t know how to stop crying, how to explain to Hope what you’re feeling, so you nod when she asks, “is it alright if I text Lizzie?”

 

Their conversation is almost distant when Lizzie rushes in, all whirlwind.

 

“What did you do?” She questions Hope.

 

“Not me,” Hope says and out of the corner of the eye, you can see her hand the note over.

 

 "Look," Lizzie mutters, "I thought this was supposed to be a love letter."

 

"I agree," Hope says, her arm wrapped around you, "but focus."

 

 Lizzie kneels down on the floor in front of you. "What are you going to do?" she asks. 

 

"I don't know."

 

"What do you want? If you want things to change, you have to do the things you want to do, Josie."

 

"I want her back, Liz," you confess. 

 

Lizzie smiles at you, gentle, encouraging. "Then get her back. You deserve to be happy. Even if it is with Penelope Park," she adds, but there's no real bite to her voice. She looks you over, then sighs. "We should probably make you look a little less racoon-ish, though."

 

“Really,” Hope mutters, staring pointedly at the note, “all of this, and we still think Penelope will care what she looks like?”

 

“There is never a reason not to look your best. Ready for the apocalypse is not a look that works for everyone,” Lizzie bites out, then holds out her hand. “Hairbrush. I’m presuming you own one?”

 

You let Lizzie spin you around, straightening out your hair, fretting over your make-up and it’s nice.

Calming. She looks you over, then pops open the top button of your blouse with a satisfied smile.

 

“No reason not to stack the odds in your favor. Go get your girl, Jo.”

 

She’s holding court on the steps and you watch for several minutes, unnoticed from the.shadows.

 

She is phenomenal.

 

When you were together, it took your breath away, that she would want you when she could have had anyone.

 

Now, you’re mostly fighting the urge to run away, because this is scary and unlike you. You've never been one to take the first step. But you know you can't let that stop you, can't let her get away, so finally, you walk towards her.

 

“Can I talk to you? Privately?” 

 

For several seconds you’ll think she’ll reply with a biting comment but then she nods. At the snip of her fingers, the staircase empties and you’re left alone, staring down at her and can not remember what you came here to say.

 

"Josie," she prompts softly and you meet her eyes and are almost blown away by the way she's looking at you, so, so gently. 

 

“I read your note,” you whisper and you can see that she strains to hear you, tilts her body closer.

 

The silence lingers, weighing down on you and you step closer, until you’re only inches apart. “I love you too,” you tell her.

 

It doesn’t fix anything.

 

She’s still stubborn and thinks she knows best.

 

You’re still hiding in the shadows of your sister, too afraid of how you really are.

 

But she reaches for your hand, pulls you carefully closer until she can close the distance between you and smiles at you so very, very gently. And maybe, you can work on it together.

 

Maybe, it can be you and her against the world.

 

She kisses you carefully, her hands cupping your face like you’re the most precious thing in existence and you don’t know how you survived this long without her.

 

Her phone rings with the sound of a new message. Another. And another. She looks at the screen, annoyed, chuckles, and shows it you.

 

_Just remember, Park, if you hurt her again I will siphon your entire magic out of you and use it to kill you.  Hope will help._

 

_Hope will not help._

 

_You come from a long line of excellent killers. Apply your talents._

 

Penelope smirks. “I take it this is as close to approval as I’ll get from Lizzie?”

 

 _Would you two like to take your flirt-fighting out of my inbox?_  She writes back and smiles at you.

 

“That should shut them up.”

 

You watch as she mutes her phone and turns back to you, an almost predatory smirk on her face. “Now, where were we?”

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on twitter @liz_mikaelson, if you want to!


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